


Nightswimming

by malu (orphan_account)



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/malu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>And while they sneak through the hotel hallways, clothes dripping and leaving stains and puddles everywhere, fingers laced between them and childish giggles barely stifled, Mark thinks that maybe, these last months in Formula One won’t be so bad after all.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightswimming

**Author's Note:**

> **Not real, just playing.**

Three months. It’s already been three month since he announced his leave and somehow, it feels as if time is trickling away through his fingers like sand. He meant to savor his last season, the last races. Take in the atmosphere more, like he hasn’t done since his rookie years. Maybe be more relaxed around the paddock, have chill times with his selected friends. But somehow, none of that is working and business is going as usual. Everything is hurried and crammed and rushed, there is none of the relief he was expecting from the decision.

Mark flops straight to the mattress, staring at the white ceiling of a hotel room. It looks like every other hotel room he’s been in and he doesn’t like it one bit. Even with the knowledge that it’s going to be over soon, he still hates being here and feels annoyed without a true reason. Fourth. It’s neither bad nor good by itself, but it’s devastating when _he_ wins. Mark shudders at the image of his nemesis, inconveniently popping up in his head. _He_ has a habit of doing that. Or his images do. They haunt Mark. Maybe even mock him. They keep flashing up in the most inconvenient moments and that wouldn’t even be so bad if they wouldn’t keep provoking those completely inappropriate reactions in his lap. Like right now, where he feels his jeans becoming just a bit too tight once again. It knocks before the matter gets worse though and the sudden noise makes him jerk up and clears the issue for the time being.

And he shouldn’t have thought about him, because as sure as you aren’t supposed to say out the devil’s name loud, Mark opens the door to the sight of a blushed, insecure Sebastian. The younger gives him a short smile and then stares at the ground and he’s clutching to a bottle of liquor. Mark identifies it as decent brand of vodka and he genuinely doubts Sebastian can hold more than a shot of that without messing up. The bottle is half full.

”You’re leaving.”

Right. That. They haven’t spoken about it yet. If anything, he would have expected Sebastian to think it’s a win. Not like they cared much about each other lately. Maybe the kid is just drunk.

”Yup.”

Mark shrugs. He eyes the younger driver again, but Sebastian isn’t even swaying. And wasn’t slurring. So drunk is not the reason for the outburst? It must be though, because Mark honestly couldn’t think of a different one.

”Remember Monaco 2010?”

Sebastian is leaning against the doorframe now and damned, he looks hot. All ruffled and flushed, in a tight, white T-Shirt and dark jeans. Slim jeans. Very, very slim jeans and fuck, Mark has to find something else to look at or his own jeans will burst. He swallows hard, nods. Because of course he remembers Monaco 2010. He’ll never forget that pool. Their playful banter. The jokes, the games, the teasing. And the all surrounding, buzzing energy of winning. As a team. And well, he also remembers jerking off desperately to images of their celebration in the shower afterwards. Pining and unresolved crush aside, their days had been a blast then. And maybe Mark will miss some things about Formula 1.

”The hotel has a pool on the roof. And it’s deserted by now. I checked.”

Sebastian’s words are hanging in the air between them, heavily. And Mark swallows again. Sebastian sounded confident when he said it, but now he’s back to the all innocent kid, blush on his cheeks and eyes on his feet. Something inside Mark snaps, he’s flashed by the sudden realization that, well, he’s out of here soon anyway so who cares?

”Okay.”

He sighs, turning to grab his keycard. And they don’t speak on the way to the elevator. Or in the elevator. When they step to the rooftop, the still humid heat hits Mark and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat without as much as batting an eyelid. A quick glance at Sebastian confirms that it’s the same for him and it’s not helping Mark’s self-restraint when he’s standing there, all shy and blushed and glistening with sweat. They sit down at the edge of the pool, rolling up their jeans and holding their legs into the cool water. And it’s amazing how they still wordlessly agree on these things; where to sit, what to do, when.

”Try, it’s good stuff. Kimi recommended.”

Kimi. Of course. Mark snorts. But he also accepts the bottle and takes a generous swig. Sebastian is right, it sure is good stuff. But what else is there to expect when Kimi recommends the liquor?

They drink in silence and actually, it’s a moment of that serenity he’s been looking for all along. In one of the loudest, most sparkly places of the season, he’s found a bit of peace. It’s surprisingly quiet up here, them the only visitors, sounds of the city muffled by the height. There’s a slight breeze, helping against the otherwise sticky air and the soft sounds of the pool. And a dark black sky looming over them, lit by the city lights. Much prettier than he expected and after a while, a content little sigh falls from his mouth.

”I’ll miss you, you know?”

Sebastian’s words sound earnest, but Mark can’t help snorting again. Sebastian just shrugs at that.

”I really will. I don’t even care if you believe me or not.”

Then, without further warning, he puts the bottle aside and slides into the water. He grips Mark’s arm on his way and he sure has an iron hold. Along with the surprise, the grip is enough to pull Mark along and that’s how Mark ends up in the hotel pool, fully clothed, with wide eyes and water dripping down from his head. Across from him, Sebastian seems to have lost his shyness and now grins at him, evilly, daringly, arms crossed in front of his chest. Naturally, the white T-Shirt isn’t hiding anything anymore and Mark cannot look away. Little rivulets are making their way down Sebastian’s face and neck, getting lost on the wet shirt. Mark gulps. Again. It’s becoming a habit tonight.

”A bit like Monaco,” Sebastian says, somewhat pensively, but with an innuendo that Mark cannot quite grasp yet, “I liked Monaco. Except… there were all these people watching us.”

Sebastian pauses and Mark feels his blood freeze.

”You know, there’s nobody here though,” Sebastian continues, shy smile around his lips.

Mark lifts his eyes, meeting the younger driver’s gaze and even in the vague light, the lust in Sebastian’s eyes is hard to miss. Mark forgets how to move or speak. Or do anything. He’s frozen to the spot when Sebastian now wades towards him, eyes impossibly dark and body language like that of an animal that stalks his prey.

His ability to form words or move his limbs hasn’t returned when Sebastian is suddenly right in front of him, crowding him against the wall of the pool, their chests pressed against each other. Sebastian’s breath is hot against his face and he hopes, no, he prays, his hard on isn’t too obvious. Then, Sebastian’s arms wrap around his neck and he’s pulled into a kiss.

It’s not a kiss among friends. There’s nothing chaste about this, no resemblance to a peck. Sebastian is devouring him, ravishing him. All greedy tongue and grazing teeth and Mark eventually regains enough control over his hands to steady himself on Sebastian’s hips. He’s growling and panting into Sebastian’s mouth, his pants about to burst and Sebastian’s hands running through his hair, wildly, roughly. It’s too much, too good, everything he wanted and more. After what felt like an eternity, they break apart, staring at each other with dark eyes and gasping for air.

”I should have done this years ago,” Sebastian growls.

Mark is too puzzled to even react when the German lifts him onto the edge of the pool, standing between his legs now. Since when is he strong enough to do that anyway? All other thoughts are wiped from his brain when Sebastian’s fingers tug on his fly and shove down his jeans, freeing his cock. He should be embarrassed, being so painfully hard from almost nothing, but he even forgot how to feel ashamed and this is too good to think in the first place, because Sebastian is bending down, fingers digging into Mark’s thighs and lips closing around Mark’s cock.

And well, maybe Mark should have known, because Sebastian is one of these people who want to be the best at everything, because that German kid sure knows what he’s doing. He expertly teases him, little licks, a tongue that hovers just over his tip, the pressure there, but never quite enough. Mark’s fingers are clenching in the blond hair, maybe too roughly, but he doesn’t hear any complaints and he’s melting into a needy puddle, long beyond the point of keeping up appearances. The wanton noises spill freely, only interrupted by low growled curses.

Every once in a while, Sebastian look s up at him through his lashes and Mark swears to god, he could come from the sight alone, that truly debauched looked, the flushed cheeks and the red lips stretching around him. He tenses and he’s so close, so damned close, that he’s no longer above begging, pleading Sebastian for more. After the probably most evil look ever shoots up at him, he gets just that, Sebastian swallowing him down completely. He must have zero gag reflexes and fuck, he really knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue and swallowing around Mark. He doesn’t last long and when he tries to warn Sebastian and the younger shows no desire to back away, that’s all it takes to make Mark’s vision go white as he crashes over the edge.

Sebastian rides him through it, only pulling his head back when Mark lets out a desperate whimper, all the touches getting too much all over sudden. And there he stands, in all his glory, messy hair, panting, pink cheeks and thoroughly debauches, string of saliva still connecting the swollen lips to Mark’s cock – which twitches at the mere sight.

”Round two in your room?” Sebastian presses out breathlessly, coming to sit next to him, shoulders touching. “I really want you to fuck me.”

Maybe it’s wrong. And a mistake. But then, he won’t make it worse by agreeing, Mark thinks. And maybe he is too old to go again so quickly, but with Sebastian saying something like _that_ , how could he not get hard instantly? And while they sneak through the hotel hallways, clothes dripping and leaving stains and puddles everywhere, fingers laced between them and childish giggles barely stifled, Mark thinks that maybe, these last months in Formula One won’t be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the REM song.


End file.
